Tabloids
by Addy Robin
Summary: "It's not like Doc Louis can't hear the rumors. But the people who talk – they don't know Little Mac the way he does." (Oneshot, a headcanon to explain why Doc's comments during fights can be rather...unrelated.)


It's not like Doc Louis can't hear the rumors.

He knows what they're all saying. That he's out of shape, should have put down the chocolate bar ten years ago, one too many hits to the face, all of that. Mac doesn't bring it up with him, but Doc has seen how angry it makes him sometimes, to hear what they say.

They aren't all wrong, though. He's not a young man anymore, and he can't go picking fights with the big guys when they talk about him. Not out of shape, mind you – he's doing fine for his age – but he knows better than to stoke the flames of his old rivalry with Bald Bull. And he's definitely not going to ask Little Mac to fight his battles for him. They don't need that kind of bad publicity.

But the people who say these things – they don't know Little Mac the way he does. They haven't seen what he puts himself through in training. Even without Doc pushing him, Little Mac works so hard that he forgoes eating, even sleeping, punching the bag until he passes out. Doc has found him in the training ring from time to time, slumped over on the floor, gloves still on. The first time it happened, he thought Aran Ryan had come by for revenge…the man never was an honest fighter, and everyone knows it.

It relieved and scared him that it was Mac's own fault.

It's supposed to be his job to keep Little Mac in top shape and healthy, but there's more to it than that. Doc, he _cares_ about the kid. It didn't start out that way, but these days? Mac is like a son to him. They get breakfast sometimes at Doc's favorite little café on the corner (and he always orders the chocolate chip pancakes), and he sees it more and more, that far-off look in Mac's eyes. He has to prompt the kid to get out of his thoughts and eat, and even then sometimes Mac will only halfheartedly pick at his eggs and sausage.

That's why he does it. He knows the cameras can hear, but he doesn't care. When he sees Mac losing heart, when things get too dark, he'll make stupid comments about chocolate or ask Mac to remind him to get milk after the fight – it's mundane, but it makes the kid smile, reminds him that there's life outside the ring.

Mac came to him with eyes shining and full of hope – and that's what's carried them this far. People always credit him for 'making Mac what he is', but he knows better. Mac's never given up, no matter how badly he's been beaten (and there have been times when he looks worse than Glass Joe after a fight with Sandman), and that's made all the difference.

* * *

"They're talking 'bout you again, Doc."

Mac tosses him the newspaper and joins him in the booth, gratefully sipping at the orange juice that Doc's already ordered for him. Doc unfurls the newspaper – it's one of those stupid tabloids with false rumors, the kind he's told Mac to stay away from ten times now already, and he can't help glancing at one of the headlines.

' _Jerome Louis admits – "I'm not right in the head!"_ '

He grunts and rolls his eyes at this, setting the paper down where Mac can't touch it and leaning back.

"How many times I have to tell you, these tabloids mean nothing, Mac baby!" He leans in, elbows resting on the table, and furrows his eyebrows. "C'mon. If anyone's gonna tell me I'm crazy, I think it'd be you." And he means it. He trusts Mac.

Little Mac gives him a shrug, then a sly smile. "The only thing you're crazy about is chocolate, Doc." As if on cue, a waitress comes and slides a stack of chocolate chip pancakes onto the table – extra chocolate chips, for Doc. He laughs heartily as she passes the Lumberjack Special to Mac, but holds out a hand before Mac can start to eat.

"Listen, Mac baby. You _really_ ain't gotta worry about those tabloids…I picked one up this morning, just for you, to convince you." Doc reaches into his bag and pulls out the newspaper he's been saving since yesterday morning, tossing it over to Little Mac. The youth's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he reads the headline:

' _Doc Louis and Little Mac – More Than Friends?_ '

Little Mac's disgusted expression is enough to make Doc break down laughing, and two sentences into the article Mac throws down the paper and starts cracking up too, nearly knocking over his glass of orange juice as he covers his face with his hands. They're loud, and Doc knows that everyone in the diner is probably staring, but he doesn't care. It takes a lot to make Little Mac laugh like this, but Doc finds it's getting easier and easier.

There's life outside the ring. Doc's just glad he can help Little Mac see that again.


End file.
